


in your best friend's arms

by daisy_chains



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 04:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15788760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisy_chains/pseuds/daisy_chains
Summary: You’ve always known you were going to die in your best friend’s arms.





	in your best friend's arms

**Author's Note:**

> You’re going to die  
>  **in your best friend’s arms**.  
>  And you play along because it’s funny, because it’s written down,  
> you’ve memorized it,  
> it’s all you know.  
> I say the phrases that keep it all going,  
> and everybody plays along.  
> Imagine:  
> Someone’s pulling a gun, and you’re jumping into the middle of it.  
> You didn’t think you’d feel this way.
> 
> \- Richard Siken

It’s always the same, always, “oh, only that? I thought I was dying.”

As if you weren’t. As if everything had always been fine and you hadn’t been reciting your last goodbyes to the other just moments before. 

You’re invincible, after all. You all are, so there’s no reason to worry, no reason to linger on the past dangers you’ve faced. 

And yet.

And yet you know, you’ve always known, that you were going to die in your best friend’s arms. It’s a funny thing, being certain of your own invincibility and of how you’ll die. Those two things don’t seem as though they would fit together, too contradictory, too different. 

You’re invincible, so the opponents you fight fall beneath your blade, beneath the skilled golden flare of your friend’s eyes. You’re invincible, and him even more so. So when you hear the all too familiar sound of a crossbow being loaded, why do you push him out of the way? 

The ground rushes up to meet you, but then your back hits something warm and firm and someone’s lowering you to the ground and calling your name and they sound afraid but you don’t know why.

“Arthur,” you eventually hear, “Arthur, just hold still. You’ve been shot with a crossbow.”

“Only that? I thought I was dying,” you say, but this time it’s real. This time, there’s no way out, no magical healing, no miracle, no twist of fate. Just the everpresent Death looming over you both, waiting for your time to come as you stubbornly gasp breath after breath. The arms wrapped around you tighten ever so slightly and you find that you can no longer tell if it’s on purpose or an instinctive reaction of your friend.

“You _are_ , you prat, you’re _dying_ ,” he says, voice thick with unshed tears and a wavering glare on his face. His lower lip trembles, only visible to one looking for it, and barely even then. “Now isn’t the time to joke.”

But it is, isn’t it? When will you be able to joke again? When you’re dead? Certainly not.

“I’m the _king_ , Merlin,” you say, desperately attempting to drag some sense of normalcy into the conversation - your very last - with the usual retorts. “I think you’ll find that I decide when the best time to joke is. After all, what have I always told you?”

“Not to be funny,” he, your best friend, says as the first of what you're sure will be many tears slowly falling down his cheek. 

You try to smile and nod, try to respond as you usually do, but the words die on your tongue. Do you try to make him smile one last time, make your last moments just that much less painful? Or do you tell him, “ _no man is worth your tears_ ,” an echo of words from long ago about a man you barely remember the name of?

“Smile, would you? It’s not like the world is ending,” you say instead. His lower lip trembles again, obvious even to those who don’t know him and you hate that you’re hurting him more than you hate that you’re dying when there’s still so much left you want to do.

Then, slowly, ever so slowly, the corners of his lips twist upwards in some semblance of a smile and you find yourself regretting ever asking it of him, your best friend, your brother, because how can he smile at a time like this, when his world might as well be ending with as inseparable as the two of you are. When the not-smile falls, you can’t help but be relieved even as guilt blooms in your chest for thinking such a thought. 

Would you really rather he be choking back sobs than trying to force a smile onto his face? Yes, apparently you would. There’s an apology on your lips, but he knows, of course he does, and it’s dismissed with a small shake of his head.

“It’s okay,” he says, though you both know it won’t be. “It’ll be fine, just you wait and see.”

“Of course,” you say, voice not quite a whisper, not quite anything at this point, but you force it out anyway and you force something that turns out more like a grimace onto your face. He smiles then, sad but fond as his arms hold you just a bit tighter, as if he could hold you in this world with his own willpower.

He can’t. You’ve always known you were going to die in your best friend’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> So when I first started writing this, it was supposed to be 3rd person, Merlin's perspective and Merlin dying but Arthur apparently decided he wasn't going to stand for that and took over. So, fun times! Made my beta reader cry, so there's that. I didn't cry while writing this, but it was a very near thing. Anybody else cry?


End file.
